


Thinking Aloud

by doctorate_in_realology



Series: Overwatch One-Offs [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8466757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorate_in_realology/pseuds/doctorate_in_realology
Summary: Lena and Amélie discuss the concept of marriage.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I said like 24 hours ago that it might be a while before I upload something because I didn't know what I would do next but I had this cutesy idea for some Widowtracer fluff and didn't have anything to do so whatever I wrote this in like an hour or something fuck it here's a one-off bye

“Hey, Am?”

“Yes?”

“D’you remember the first night we spent together?”

Lena lay outstretched on the bed of her and Amélie’s quarters, staring absentmindedly at her goggles as she twirled them about her index finger. She alternated her focus between them and the white ceiling, her mind engrossed in boredom.

Overwatch had seen a recent streak of familiar bad luck; everyone had been confined to the Watchpoint after a series of close calls with the world’s authorities from which they were barely able to escape. To name one, Reinhardt had seen fit to throw caution and what little subtlety he possessed to the wind and resolved a simple mugging on the streets of London by dashing a car against the wall of an apartment complex.

An effective warning to whoever the criminal was, that much was certain, but, in a word, overzealous.

In this particular case, King’s Row’s reputation for none-too-speedy responses to reports of criminal activity actually played to their favour, giving him plenty of time to flee the scene after ensuring the perpetrator left with none of their victim’s valuables.

This, among numerous other scrapes with various other police forces, gave them plenty of cause to fly beneath the radar for a time.

Inactivity frequently engenders bouts of hyperactive thinking, especially in one as fidgety as Lena. Thus her current contemplative state.

Amélie turned to face her. A mischievous smile crept across her face.

“There’s very little about that night that I forget, in fact.”

Lena laughed in agreement. “Me too, believe me. But, I was talking about something specific.”

“Such as?”

“Do you remember when you were,” Lena became somewhat flustered, though it was betrayed by her retrospective smirk, “between my legs?”

“Vividly,” Amélie purred.

“Do you remember what I said to you? I mean, I meant it as a joke, but…”

Amélie leaned back in her seat in thought, trying to recall whatever remark Lena was referring to. It had been some time ago. What was it?

Amélie’s head perked up as she snatched the answer from the ether of memory. “Ah, right, you said—”

_‘Marry me.’_

Amélie paused a full four seconds before continuing. “Are you proposing to me?”

Lena shot her back from the bed. “No!” she shouted, clearly louder than she intended as told by the expression she bore. Her face flushed red. “No, no, I’m- _god_ no, please don’t be scared or anything. I just… got to thinking about it, y’know? Like… would you ever want to? Get married?”

That was a good question. Amélie had never thought about it before. What she had right now with Lena was more than she’d ever needed, ever hoped for—marriage simply seemed redundant.

“I'm not sure,” Amélie answered, genuinely interested at being asked such a thing. “Marriage always seemed like something of a contrivance to me. Even when I was with Gérard, I was content to remain unmarried, but he insisted we do otherwise. Perhaps out of love or fear, I agreed.”

Lena visibly became nauseated at the concept of being grouped among Gérard in even one aspect of Amélie’s life. Gérard, the man who tormented her, emotionally and physically, was as far from what she strived to be for Amélie as she could describe.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… For you to think I was pressuring you into something. I don’t want to do what he did—”

“Lena.”

Amélie’s voice, stern but tempered with care, stopped her stammering in its tracks.

“Yeah?”

“Listen very carefully to me…”

 Amélie stood from her seat and joined Lena on the side of the bed, laying a hand atop hers. Lena turned to meet her eyes.

“You are _nothing_ like him. You are everything he should have been and more. I’m lucky to have even met you, and luckier still to have come to love you. Now please, calm down, and speak your mind.”

Lena went alight, heartened by Amélie’s words. God, she was incredible.

Lena sighed, collecting her thoughts. “I’m asking because if it turned out that you wanted to, I’d be willing to do that. Because, I want you to be happy. ‘Cause I love you a lot. And think you’re pretty cool.”

Amélie laughed. Lena always veiled everything behind jokes and a sunny demeanor, but Amélie knew her well enough to know that, contrary to popular belief, she could actually take things seriously.

“What about you?” Amélie returned. “If it were up to you, would you want to?”

Lena shrugged. She hadn’t given it much thought either. She was so preoccupied with the thought of doing it to make Amélie happy that she hadn’t bothered to ask herself the same question.

“Not really, honestly,” Lena decided. “I mean, marriage does seem like kind of a gimmick, eh? People always ask, y’know, ‘when are you two gonna get married’, or ‘when are you two gonna settle down and start a family’, and all that. There’s this really weird expectant social connotation to it that conditions you to think that you’re _supposed_ to be married, instead of just not worrying about it and doing whatever's comfortable. Plus, there’s all kinds of extra bills and paperwork and a whole lot of shite like that that people gotta do,” she added, emphasizing with hands circling in the air. “Seems like a big chore just to tell someone something they already know; that you love ‘em.”

“Then there is your answer,” Amélie said. “You’re sweet, and I love you to death for even considering it, but I don’t want you to do anything for me that you don’t feel comfortable doing yourself.”

Lena was almost surprised to find that she was relieved. “Good,” she sighed. “That’s good.” She looked back up to Amélie, a warm smile gently playing across her lips before she spoke. “‘Cause I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got already.”

Amélie smiled in return, and brought her head to rest against Lena’s. Their lips met with that cold-hot spark that she never grew tired of.

“So am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple other ideas for little one-shot things but I don't know if I'll flesh them out yet, gonna keep on thinkin'


End file.
